What If
by Sodden
Summary: On what could have happened in many different ways. A series of shorts on slight changes in the history.
1. Death and Death again

The two of them had just made it.

Suzaku, for all his 'tough guy'-ness, was wearing a pink shirt. Lelouch remembered that he had intended to make fun of it, but considering how Suzaku was driving earlier...It was best the deposed prince kept his mouth shut.

The chick had been safely returned to its nest, all thanks to Suzaku's incredible physical ability and Lelouch's crafty plan to escape the Kururugi Shrine compound. Unfortunately for the Britannian child, the way back was rather strenuous.

"If," he panted, halfway up the rock face, "I knew this way was going to be so troublesome I would have planned a different route..."

"Just take my hand," Suzaku answered, extending his short arm out.

Lelouch did.

And the world exploded.

The dark-haired boy found himself sailing through the air, before gravity won and rocks and dirt ground into him, barely a cushion for his fall. He felt his shirt tear from the sharper pieces, and one of his suspenders snapped. Rolling to a stop, Lelouch grit his teeth determinedly, arms shielding his face and eyes. The crackle of fire in the background continued. Seconds crawled by slowly, but once Lelouch had his breath back he tried to move.

Pain seared through his back. The child could only lay awkwardly on his side, unclenching his teeth to take shivering breaths of dust. His left arm hurt like hell too—there was a numbness further down that Lelouch did not want to think about.

"Ru...ru.."

He didn't know how he could hear it through all that pain, but Lelouch heard the first two syllables of his name, as it was pronounced in Japanese, as clear as day. Remembering how the twisted version of his name used to annoy him, Lelouch couldn't help the small giggle that escaped him at the thought of how glad he was to hear it now.

"Suzaku!" Immediately he fell into a fit of coughs, mouth tasting of dirt. He couldn't see anything besides the tops of trees...fanned by flames. Gasping, Lelouch wildly scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of a pink shirt.

Dust settled some more, and his clouded view stretched a bit further. His right hand twitched; he could not even find the energy to brush his eyes out. Despite the slow disappearance of dust, his vision only seemed foggier than before. "Suzaku...where..." Each word constricted his throat tighter and tighter, until Lelouch could barely whisper what he wanted to say. "Are..."

He caught sight of the hand first. The right hand that reached out to help him up before now lay on the earth, short, stubby fingers curling and uncurling as if reaching for something. The middle finger was stained with blood.

Lelouch could see the shirt, illuminated by the red glow of flickering flames, and realized not all of the red belonged to light alone. Suzaku seemed to be looking at him with the same horror too; Lelouch had no idea how he looked, but he couldn't move his legs.

His nails dug into the ground and dragged his arm forward, clawing desperately towards the hand that reached out just as desperately for him. Green locked with violet, and each pulled forward, despite the great distance between them.

They never stopped looking at each other.

* * *

They had been in the southwest area of ghetto, if he remembered correctly. Suzaku hurriedly plowed the Lancelot through more rubble, trying to keep an eye on all his external cameras at once. Smoke and dust clouded his view, but he needed to find them. 

"**Suzaku-kun, the mission is over. You can return now.**"

"I'm sorry, Cecille-san, but could I stay out a little longer? I'm...searching for someone important."

"**...All right. Just keep an eye on the energy filler. When it starts to run low, come back immediately.**"

"I will...Thank you."

_Lelouch would have searched for a way out...He'd know how to stay safe..._

Lancelot leapt towards higher ground, choosing to scale the mountains of debris instead of maneuvering around it. Far away, Suzaku heard the dying explosions. The sounds of fighting ceased, leaving an eerie silence that pressed on him urgently.

_This way—!_

His hands were slick with sweat beneath the gloves. Suzaku felt his heart pounding exceptionally hard—the foreboding feeling would not go away, no matter how much he willed it or how many positive thoughts he packed over it. He had to trust Lelouch was capable of handling himself, no matter what happened.

And then his camera spotted it.

"No..."

A gaping hole in the side of a warehouse of some sort, ragged around the edges. Small beams of light illuminated the dark space within; the view zoomed and the sensors fixed onto the prone body lying in the midst of shadows.

"No..."

Suzaku ignored the warning beep of the Knightmare Frame indicating the low levels of the energy filler. He did not even bother pulling the key out, merely opening the cockpit in a heated rush. Before the seat was even completely ejected the Japanese teenager had climbed out; he jumped the last five feet, the painful landing not deterring him from rushing forward at the moment he touched ground. He raced on, heart exploding in his chest.

"_Lelouch!_"

The cry went unanswered. For Suzaku's boots skidded to a stop next to a body lying on top of no small amount of blood. The soldier fell to his knees, red liquid seeping into the fabric of his suit—_but he didn't care, because_—

Tears rolled down his cheeks, and the first sobs spilled from his choked throat. Glassy violet eyes stared blankly ahead, all the more accusing in their lifelessness. Suzaku's trembling hands brushed the blood-caked strands of hair down, to hide that hole in the middle of his best friend's forehead.

* * *

He heard the tinkling laughter and the irritable clapping of the other Geass user. For a moment he rebelled, ire rising with indignant annoyance. How dare Mao— 

The doors of the tram slid shut after Mao's footsteps, and after a hiss the machine rumbled downwards, away from the two bodies lying on the steps. Silence blanketed the scene after the last vestiges of the engine died away, too far for Lelouch to hear.

Shirley had missed his heart, but the gunshot wound didn't hurt any less.

She hit her own temple with much more precision.

In the first few seconds, when Mao was still here and laughing with amusement, Lelouch bent his head back and could only gape at the growing puddle of red under orange. The blood slowly seeped over the edge of the concrete and dripped down, the trails reaching for him in accusing tendrils. He couldn't see her face, her curtain of hair having obscured his sight. Only her hand, the trembling hand now still, hung limply over her side, gun clenched in a deathgrip.

I'll kill him, vowed Lelouch. I'll order him to shoot himself in the knees, in his stomach, his arms—I'll make him kill himself over and over again, I swear—

His vision blurred. Lelouch blinked, wondering if something had gotten into his eyes. Why was it so hard to see? He thought he wasn't bleeding that much, but apparently—

_Beeeeep! Beeeeep!_

Lelouch's eyes travelled away from the gruesome setup above him and to the side where he dropped his phone, no more than a foot from his head. The device continued ringing, the microphone twisted out and ready for use. His fingers dragged along the ground—gods, it was so hard to move—and two blood-stained ones pressed the speaker button, pulling the device closer to his head. "Hello?" he breathed, the word stumbling from his mouth out of habit.

"**Lelouch?**"

"Suzaku." The name spilled from his lips in a tone of relief. "When...When...did you get a phone..."

"**Just today,**" Suzaku replied. "**I wanted to call you first, before anyone else. Lelouch, are you okay? You sound strange.**"

"Suzaku...promise me, no matter what, that you'll take care of Nunnally?" His voice cracked on his sister's name.

"**Lelouch?! What's wrong? Where are you?**" The ex-prince heard faint thuds over the phone, indicating Suzaku's shoes pounding on whatever surface happened to be unfortunate.

"Just promise me," he half-whispered. Lelouch hoped Suzaku could hear him. "Just promise me you'll take care of her like I would."

"**Don't stop talking,**" Suzaku said fiercely. "**Don't stop talking, I'll be there—_Where are you?_**"

The edges of his vision were going black. "Please, Suzaku."

"**No. No, okay? Don't say things like that to me. You're going to be okay, you'll take care of Nunnally like you have since...You'll be here! Don't tell me to do your job for you! Lelouch? Are you there? Lelouch!**"

C.C. knew it the moment it happened.

"_**Lelouch!**_"

* * *

**Notes**: 

Thanks to the sound file translation that told the story of Suzaku, Lelouch, the chick, and Suzaku's driving abilities as taught by video games. (Which means they're nonexistent.)

The first instance? Theoretically pilots shouldn't be wasting bombs on a mountain, but heck, anything can happen. Including bad, screwed up pilots. My original thought was, damn, what kind of irony would it be if it were Jeremiah who blew them up? And he would see them after his mistake—a rookie pilot then, and he would feel terrible about it. However, I left it as is because it seemed best that way.

Keep in mind these were written on the spur, without any corrections whatsoever...

The second one...There's actually kind of nothing to say about that one. Except that it might as well have never happened, because the chances of the Lancelot needed on the battlefield is pretty much zero if Lelouch kicked the bucket. I had also considered having C.C. saunter in and tell a stricken Suzaku that Britannians killed his best friend, and then pop him a Geass. But hello? Lelouch is dead. Geassing anyone wouldn't help.

A large part of laziness comes from liking the tragic endings.

The third is kind of short. I wanted to make it longer, but the words ran out and here it ends. I think the third ended up too much like a scene from a B-grade movie, you know with what the cheesy, dying phone call and asking for a promise at the end. Originally I was going to leave C.C. out of it, but that seemed like a good way of showing that Lelouch died.

Come to think of it, this seems like a compilation of "How Lelouch could have died in his seventeen years of Life", which isn't what I intended...

At this point, it's recommended that the whole series has been watched already, because the later ones will have spoilers. No, really, as if this one didn't.

Code GEASS: Lelouch of the Rebellion does not belong to me.


	2. Time and Time again

Suzaku self-consciously pushes the sunglasses up again. The cheap plastic scratches one of the bruises on his face, makes him wince. Swallowing hard, he turns away from the shadow of the court building, simply thankful for his freedom.

He has no idea where he is to go, though. The army had, more or less, discharged him (dishonorably) the moment Jeremiah Gottwald arrested him. His face is known everywhere; it would be difficult to find lodgings, much less say a job.

And Lelouch...

Biting his lip, Suzaku adjusts his sunglasses and scurries towards the direction he knew to be the Shinjuku ghetto. Seven years of loneliness, and they had managed to meet again. There had to be some trace of the Britannian prince—even if it were days since the incident.

_You're hopeless!_ his inner Lelouch voice screams at him. Of course_ there's nothing left for you to find! Stop thinking like an idiot!_

He knows he had asked Lloyd to search for 'Lelouch' and a green-haired girl on the casualty list, but Suzaku has no idea if Lelouch was still going by the same name, and casualty lists generally did not include descriptions. And the Japanese teenager also does not doubt that the Britannian forces did not bother to identify most of the bodies.

Suzaku wonders if it would have been better if the soldiers had taken Lelouch prisoner.

_Lelouch wouldn't survive,_ little Suzaku scoffs, scowling. _He's too weak for cold cells and beatings._

"Oi! Suzaku Kururugi!"

Without warning, a giant trailer skids to a stop right in front of him on the street, drawing no small amount of attention. And what a scene it makes, with a blue-haired man hanging out of a window shouting his infamous name.

The soldier presses his sunglasses to his face and shrinks inwards.

"Hello," the scientist says in that chipper manner of his. Barely a second later he is tossed aside by Cecille, who leans out with a smile.

"Don't mind him, Suzaku-kun." Cecille seems to stare at him for a brief moment. Finally, her eyes soften and she holds up a hand with a familiar white ribbon threaded through her fingers. "Would you mind joining the Special Dispatch Cooperative Technology Division as an official test devicer?"

Five blocks away, a young, pink-haired girl attempts her great escape climbing out of a window using a rope made of flimsy bedsheets. When she jumps, she breaks her leg on the pavement.

It takes over ten weeks to heal.

* * *

_Right now, things have come to an end between you and me._

He did not believe those words. But even as he stood at the top of the stairs, on the verge of calling her back, Lelouch looked at her squarely, and bid her farewell. The mark of the Geass flickered in his left eye for the briefest moment, before extinguishing itself.

Are you sure you are leaving?

C.C. looked at him for a long moment, her gaze inscrutable. Then she turned and left, footsteps fading into the distance.

I said our contract is dissolved, didn't I?

After his eyes could no longer discern the remainder of her shadow, the prince glanced at the phone in his hand, and deleted all the voicemail on it. He had a list of important issues to take care of tonight, after all, and voicemails not addressed to him did not concern him.

You never said what our contract was truly about.

An hour later, C.C. stepped off a train and began to walk towards a closed amusement park. Lelouch finished a phone call to Diethard and headed downstairs to begin his nightly ritual of putting Nunnally to sleep.

Do you want to become like Mao?

Another thirty minutes, and blood splattered the orange-color pavement surrounding a ferris wheel. Lights dimmed in the room of a sleeping child, tucked safely between a soft mattress and warm sheets.

Fifteen minutes later, C.C. no longer had any of her limbs.

Lelouch was asleep, dreaming of a future where his Geass destroyed the ones around him and left him all alone at the peak of heaven.

* * *

Gawain was ten seconds too late.

In ten seconds, bullets pelted the cockpit of Lancelot continuously. The hail pummeled the same armor again and again, weakening its defense until one shot pierced through.

Others followed it.

The machines surrounding the white Knightmare did not let up on their assault despite the obvious victory. Lancelot looked like a macabre magician's box, with all the holes in the sides for swords to go through. Except there was no one space safe for the magician.

No one saw the pilot of Lancelot struggling to breathe, within the confines of the metal that should have protected him. His green eyes glowed an unnatural red, commanding his body to do what it could not, not when the body was riddled with holes like the armor that encased it. His heart pumped desperately on, pushing to arteries that spurted the much-needed blood to the floor and computers. In the last moments, it was nothing but pain and torture for the vessel that fought to live against his own will.

Lancelot's eyes dimmed and blinked out.

The warrior princess did not need to deploy her forces, for Gawain cut the murderers to pieces. He carved a path of explosions and death through the whole of the Fukuoka Base. Looming above the central command tower, the black demon blew the building apart without mercy. He became a dark shadow in the smoke.

For a moment, the world held its breath, its vision obscured by the destruction. Concrete pieces of the tower continued to hail through the air; the remaining parts were nothing but jagged pillars of steel barely clearing the top of the smoke cloud. All the metal warriors stopped, waiting and watching the raining debris for a sign of the single black knight that did this.

Gawain did not disappoint.

He slid out of the dust, a picture of death with Lancelot ensconced in his grip. In a somber glide Gawain left the fortress.

"We cannot bring him," the witch said, and Gawain placed its precious burden at the edge of Fukuoka, rising again and flying off into the night.

Lelouch Lamperouge would not even be able to attend Suzaku Kururugi's funeral, not when Princess Euphemia was holding it in public.

* * *

Wow. How did I end up with a theme of time? I swear I chose those events at random.

I tried to move away from death. But by the time I was scribbling the third one, I really needed to kill somebody.

Code GEASS does not belong to me.


	3. Do we know who we are?

Suzaku had kept his distance until he saw the capsule begin to open of its own accord.

In that one moment of shining brilliance, he froze in place and stared. A shadow in the shape of a young woman rose from the midst of streaming rays. Dark ribbons fanned out and arced back into a wave, draping over the edges of the capsule. She slumped back, eyes glowing over the cloth wrapped around the lower half of her face.

It never occurred to him that he should have run away.

Heart racing, he scampered forward to assist the girl. Suzaku pried open buckles and undid belts, hands clumsy and undelicate. His soldier's mind registered the standard uniform of prisoners; his feelings registered someone in need of assistance.

He wasn't sure if he actually cared about the consequences of releasing her.

When the last buckle around her sleeves were undone, she stood up and flicked her hair over her shoulders, manner unassuming. The brown orbs centered on Suzaku and assessed him, making his skin crawl.

"You are that child," she said, softly.

"That child?" he repeated, frowning. "Have we met before?"

Her eyes slid away, to the breaks in the ceiling of the place. "Do you want the power to change your destiny?"

A flash, and Suzaku remembered sunflowers on red, seven years ago. The image lay just out of his reach.

"Power?" whispered the soldier. "What power?"

"The power of kings. The power of leaders." The mysterious girl's gaze locked onto his again. "The power to liberate your mother nation. The power to change the world."

"Don't joke around," he answered sharply. "I don't know who you are, but things aren't that simple. No one person carries a power enough to change the world by himself."

Twinkling, scornful laughter reached his ears, and Suzaku could not tear his eyes away from her face. Bitterness did not begin to cover the smile there. After a few seconds, she stopped, looking at him again. Her arm came up in a slow, graceful arc, and her hand flipped back, fingers splayed.

"I can give you that power," the girl whispered, voice bells calling to him.

Light flooded his vision; moments of people in varying actions passed him by, fleeting and never complete. Suzaku was not blinded—in fact, he was unable to close his eyes, unable to shield himself from the onslaught of images and from the piercing whistle that penetrated the whiteness. Between the people who flew by him, the soldier caught glimpses of ribbons, colored in the same brilliance of a rainbow.

It was the past, the present, and the future, melded together in a space too small to contain all. Burning sensations seared across the exposed skin of his face, and he saw, with unfailing cognizance, the death and destruction that had been and could be and would be.

"Do you see? You have no power now. Because of your blood, you will never be able to change this world as it is today."

The shadow of the girl glared out of the fantastic array, a stain of black. She stood in the same manner he saw her before the strange phenomenon began, hand outstretched.

"_Do you accept my contract?_"

Suzaku reached out and closed the distance between them.

* * *

"Suzaku!" 

He paused, turning back to look at the pillar that was the figure of Zero amidst the rubble. The cloaked man, bathed in moonlight, slowly reached up with one hand, fingers pressing on the mask as if it were his real face.

Another long moment of silence, and Suzaku looked away, outside to where the jaws of the rigged judicial system would certainly close on him if he returned. His body turned fully towards the gaping hole that sufficed as a door for the crumbling ruin.

"Don't you want to know who I am?"

Zero must have been timing his words. Suzaku had been completely ready to walk away, completely sure of his decision to go to the trial. The moment of question cut a chunk out of his surety.

"I..."

"_Boku_."

Because of the mask, Zero looked like he had not moved at all, as if the plastic were his face—dark, shuttered, smooth and only reflective without revealing any of its own mysteries. "Or..._ore_? Are you your own self, or just a mindless voice without identity?"

Suzaku's eyes narrowed. "What about you?" he challenged. "You wear a mask and hide yourself, your true self, from the public. Or is this the 'true you'?"

Silence. And then, even across the gaping space, Suzaku heard the whirring of gears. The ridges at the back of Zero's all-encompassing mask crawled upwards, revealing strands of glossy black hair. Stepping back, the Japanese teenager felt his stomach drop.

"In Japan, it would have been rude to use your first name without suffix unless I had been someone close, wouldn't it?" Black-gloved fingers found purchase on the slippery material, and with a slight nod of the head, the top of the mask tipped off. Slowly, to Suzaku's baited breath, the helmet moved clear of the face he feared would be there.

"_Ore wa...Zero._"

Lelouch's eyes narrowed. "And if you step out there, **I will go with you**. I will show them who I am, and you know they will execute me for what I did." He took a step forward, letting the mask fall to the floor. It clattered noisily on the concrete, bounced down, and rolled to a stop at where Suzaku had been standing a few minutes before.

Trembling, the soldier found himself unable to look away. "No..."

Calmly, the Britannian ex-prince descended from his perch, coming to a stop in the pit below Suzaku. His eyes never left the other's.

"Will you let them swallow us both?"

* * *

"I could say, 'Kill me'. And you would do it." 

Upon reflection, Lelouch did not think he could have said anything worse.

This was when he was lying on the floor, hand pressed to a bleeding wound on his side, dizzy from the heavy blow Euphemia had dealt to his head, and apparently looking up into the face of death as the princess had his gun pointed at him.

"Euphie," he croaked, all his eloquence gone. His left eye glowed an eerie red.

Both of her eyes...they seemed outlined in red, but his vision was foggy and he was also seeing double. Lelouch felt his chest heave, and realized he was laughing, laughs that came in short, seizing gasps. This had been what he wanted, wasn't it?

"I must kill you," she said in her flightly, cheery manner. "Please stay still and be nice, okay?"

The gunshot echoed down the hall.

Suzaku came to with a jolt. Blinking, he wearily raised his head and caught a streak of white and green running towards the place of discussion—it was that girl! Zero—Euphie—was she in danger?! Ignoring the fallen agents around him, Suzaku stumbled to his feet and gave chase, legs feeling as though they were weighted with tons of lead.

_Euphie told me to trust her. She told me to believe in her, but still—_

His feet gradually returned to normal and he sprinted ahead, closing in on the green-haired girl. He nearly crashed into her when she stopped suddenly. Her whole profile had froze, in some inexplicable manner, and Suzaku did not understand why until he heard Euphie's sobs.

"Lelouch, I'm sorry, I don't know why I did it, Lelouch, don't leave like this, please—"

Zero's mask lay on the floor, whole and undamaged.

_I believed in you._

"Why did you kill him?"

Euphemia's tear-stained face looked up from the prone body of her half-brother. Relief glimmered in her eyes. "Suzaku!"

"If you saw his face, you must have known it...was Lelouch," he continued stonily. Euphemia realized he was not looking at her, but at the gun she still held tightly in her hand. She dropped it immediately, and reached out for her knight.

"I-I don't know what happened! I don't remember what happened!" the Britannian princess sobbed. "Suzaku, please, save him, it was just a needlegun—"

He didn't hear her words after that. Suzaku knelt, hand outstretched to close those shocked purple eyes and let Lelouch rest. He swept the whole form of Zero in his arms, and turned away from Euphemia. Panicking, she seized his pant leg in desperation.

"Suzaku, is he going to—"

"Lelouch is dead, Euphemia," he heard his voice say, distant and hollow. He struggled to surface, to ask the questions he needed to. "Why did you kill him?"

"I...I didn't! I was talking to him and he just agreed to the special zone, and then—then..."

The green-haired girl had vanished. So had the mask of Zero.

All his questions died and faded away. Suzaku simply pulled his leg from Euphemia's fingers and walked away.

_Did she really forget? But she wouldn't even admit she shot him—how could she shoot her brother was she all a lie did Cornelia tell her to do it damn it Lelouch—she killed Lelouch knowing who he was..._

Right before he stepped out of the room, Euphemia cried out in one last burst of grief. "I didn't kill him! Why won't you believe me?!"

Despite the low volume of his reply, she heard him loud and clear.

"I can't believe you anymore."

* * *

The last one turned out longer than I expected... 

Code GEASS does not belong to me.


	4. From the other side

Schneizel did not know why he was watching the broadcast. He supposed it was due to the lack of good entertainment available on other channels (at times of nostalgia, he wished Britannia had not conquered and colonized Japan; he had loved watching Japanese animation as a child up until the year Japan became Area 11 and all the good production companies shut down). He also thought for that moment, he had nothing urgent on his itinerary, and he could probably learn a bit about fine details from this well-executed farce of a trial.

There was a timid, diminutive lawyer representing the defense; Kururugi obviously would not be called to testify, considering the collar around his neck. Schneizel recognized it; none of the general public knew it to be a device to shock the prisoner each time he attempted to speak. Better the collar than to appear ruthless and unjust with a gag, which was exactly what that device had been crafted for.

As the persecution continued making accusations without proof or refute, Schneizel felt his mind wandering. His hand was halfway to the remote when it stopped.

Black hair. Hair of the kind he had come to associate with his memory of the Empress Marianne stood out from the many heads of those seated in the gallery. The camera moved sideways, and Schneizel caught a glimpse of the face before footage returned to the 'action'.

Lelouch didn't look very happy to be there, he thought to himself on the plane the day after. Already in his lap lay the printouts of information on 'Lelouch Lamperouge', Britannian student living in Area 11. At the Ashford school, no less.

Cornering Lelouch was easy enough, considering how little protection the Ashfords could offer him when his cover had all but blown sky high. Better yet, it appeared that Milly Ashford had conveniently tied his brother to a chair, so Lelouch could not run even if he saw Schneizel coming.

"What are you here for?" Lelouch asked coldly, splashing a liberal amount of water on his face and scrubbing.

Schneizel admired the pristine condition of the boys' bathroom. "I contacted Father yesterday," he answered, as if those words contained all the answers.

"So?"

"He wants you to return to Britannia."

Lelouch barked a laugh, one hand covering his face. Water continued running from the tap, filling the silence with the steady sound of splashing on the sides of the sink.

"I want Suzaku Kururugi's trial verdict overturned and for all charges to be cleared from his name."

"Done."

"I'm not finished," Lelouch said sharply, when Schneizel made for the door. He looked up at stared at the mirror, droplets of water falling from damp bangs. "Nunnally is not to leave my side for anything," he said, quietly. The seventeen year-old turned the faucet off, gaze meeting Schneizel's in reflection.

"The post of Governor-General of Area 11. I want it."

* * *

_Checkmate._

Belatedly, Lelouch remembered he had never played chess against Cornelia, only Clovis and Schneizel. He knew Clovis's strategies inside out, like the palm of his hand. Even Schneizel he could anticipate, if only for one or two moves. He didn't know Cornelia.

The world turned black and white. He saw futures flashing by as he trembled in the pilot's seat, running through any possibilities that would pull him out of the pinch he was in now.

He couldn't lose now. He wouldn't accept losing now, not when he finally had this power. Not when he was finally living and acting of his own accord.

Before the Knightmares of her unit reached him, Lelouch reached over onto the dashboard and flipped his frequency onto the open channel.

"**Cornelia Li Britannia.**"

The voice echoed somberly at the bridge of the command center Cornelia resided in. She did not hesitate to order the volume turned up, and hooked a headset to her own ear.

"Who is this?"

"**Do you remember Empress Marianne?**"

Her gloved hands fisted immediately, trembling with anger. The woman abruptly stood, storming to the rows of screens displaying her army.

"How dare you?! The name of the Empress is not for the likes—"

"**Do you remember Nunnally and Lelouch?**" the voice continued, level and calm. "**Do you remember how Britannia abandoned them?**"

Cornelia inhaled sharply, her previous tirade dying in her throat. "Who are you?" she ground out, eyes desperately searching the Knightmares displayed. There were still too many unopened cockpits, too many to see who was speaking. "Who are you to be asking these questions?"

"**I want to know who killed my mother,**" answered the mysterious voice simply.

_It can't be—_

"**Tell me why you lowered the guard that day, Cornelia. Tell me who killed my mother.**"

"Get off the open channel," she snapped. "Get out of the Knightmare you are in and speak to me face-to-face."

"**Did you kill my mother?**"

"NO! I will not discuss this matter like this. Get out of your cockpit—"

"**I will not submit to Britannia,**" he interrupted. _I will not live like the dead again._

A gunshot rang out, loud and clear, over the open channel.

* * *

Euphemia felt the weight of the white flower-ornamented plaque in her hands, knowing exactly which painting they—the reporters, the roaming guests, General Darlton—expected her to choose. The very obvious placement of the artwork done by the son of Duke Nikolai had clued her in from the beginning. The painting hung right behind where she had been instructed to sit, where it would have the best position to be caught on camera. 

She remembered in the past, when she was ten, how she and Clovis went to an art museum in the capital. There had been one whole gigantic hallway filled with works of her father, from busts to statues to paintings to sketches. The museum curator guided them through the hall, praising works left and right, or more specifically how gallant her father looked as modeled on one sculpture, and how strong he looked in the painting two works over. Her brother's grip on her hand tightened as they moved through the display, until his hand began to shake in hers.

She asked him if something was wrong, and he just looked at her, pressed his lips together in a thin line, and loosened his clenched fist.

She didn't remember the artworks. They were just a blur of the national colors.

Later, when night had fallen and they retired to the Imperial residence in that city, Clovis sat down with her at his easel in the arcade of the courtyard. In the dim lantern lights, installed expressly for atmosphere instead of practical use, he told her that all those works of art in the gallery had the right artistic principles. But, Clovis ground through his teeth, and she could tell he was annoyed, those works had no life, no individuality. They had been painted just to please others; all of them were no more than carbon copies of each other.

Those artists had no sense of self, he told her, making a streak of black on his canvas. They did either what people told them to do or what people expected them to do.

She recalled those words now, and looked down at the plaque in her hands. Her eyes floated sideways to that simple painting she admired before.

This was all she could do for her country, she thought, and she stepped up the the painting of her father and hung the plaque on it.

Tears stung behind her eyes. As the cellphones of the reporters began to ring, she took advantage of the distraction, hiked up her skirts and fairly ran out of the gallery, stumbling into the private room that held her brother's works.

Later, hours after she wept in the sanctuary she made of Clovis's art, she picked up the file of potential candidates Cornelia chose for her, and selected a name at random. He was the third son of a baron who came from a long line of barons, and had a good military record with the rank of major.

When the Black Knight Order finally took Japan, the gallery burned and crumbled to dust.

* * *

**Notes**: 

Schneizel. Is...Well, I took liberties with his character. Considering how little he's shown up in the anime, however, practically anyone writing him is taking liberties.

I rewatched episode 7 to figure out how the first battle between Lelouch and Cornelia would have went if C.C. did not show up and save his ass. Well, more precisely, I kind of skipped around the episode. What caught me was the moment where Lelouch put the gun to his own head in order to move past C.C.; if really pushed to it, I don't think Lelouch would mind taking his own life. (And damn he's skinny to be able to hide that huge gun in his uniform without even so much as a bulge sticking out...)

I have such trouble writing Euphemia. She's too terribly close to a Mary Sue in the series, and I have a general distaste for those kinds of female characters in anime. Her character is also so 'white' and 'pure' that she has been nothing short of boring to me (I, uh, didn't like her until she got an uzi...). But I felt myself that I wrote her a little off in 03, in the instance where she popped Lelouch a good one. So I tried again.

Code GEASS does not belong to me.


	5. In lands unknown

"Welcome!"

The word was said in too sultry a manner to be safe. Suzaku froze in the doorway, glasses slipping down his nose.

A blond-haired student he recognized as Schneizel El Britannia sat in an armchair in the middle of the room, surrounded by a gaggle of other male students. All of them good-looking and of significant status in the school. Suzaku stared, wide-eyed, at the venerable figure of Toudou Kyoushiro, the national kendou champion. Someone that serious was hanging out here?!

"Oh, it's just the commoner kid," drawled Clovis La Britannia. He dropped his artful pose and struck another one. "Saa, when are the ladies coming...?"

"Ladies?" repeated Suzaku dully.

"We," announced Schneizel with a flourish of his hand, "are the Ashford Host Club, handsome men devoted to pleasing the beautiful ladies of this school."

"And to profiting off them," Diethard Ried added, adjusting the lens on his priceless camera.

"Er—"

A hand seized his and began dragging him away from the door. Suzaku glanced over his shoulder to see the back of Lelouch's head; the scholarship student stumbled to keep up with the other's fast-paced steps.

"Hey! That was Lelouch, wasn't it?" came Schneizel's bright and cheery voice from behind them. "Lelouch! Come back!"

"Keep running," the person in question grumbled. "Those people are crazy. Didn't I tell you to steer clear of the Zero Music Room?"

"Jeremiah!"

"Yes, my Lord!"

And suddenly a tall student with blue hair appeared at the end of the hallway in front of them, blocking their escape. Lelouch and Suzaku skidded to a grinding halt, and Suzaku watched in horror as 'Jeremiah' lifted what looked like a heavy-duty bazooka to his shoulder.

"Wait!" Suzaku shouted.

Jeremiah fired. In that screaming second, Suzaku glimpsed AN ORANGE flying out of the barrel and strike Lelouch straight in the forehead. The dark-haired boy passed out immediately.

Behind Jeremiah, Lloyd Asplund crowed in victory. "Success! Next time I can make it shoot pepperoni—"

As he knelt down to Lelouch's side, members of the host club closing in, Suzaku dimly wondered what they had gotten into.

* * *

"I play _Witch's Illusion_! This card allows me to special summon the monster card _Restrained C.C._ to the field from the graveyard, and she gains 200 attack and defense points for each time she has been raised from the dead during this duel!"

Lelouch smirked, adjusting his collar with his free hand. "And that," he drawled, "totals five times."

The green-haired holographic figure glowed brilliantly to reflect her new 2200 attack point status, and proceeded to wipe the floor with the _Pizza Hut Man_ on the opposite side of the field.

"Oh no!" Jeremiah clutched the sides of his head in agitation. "Damnit, why won't that monster stay dead?!"

"_Lelouch-sama!!!_" roared the fangirls in the stadium.

Gritting his teeth, Jeremiah brought his arm up and poised to draw a card. "It's my turn! Draw!" His eyes widened at the card, a smile growing on his face. The blue-haired duelist promptly slapped the card down onto the duel disk attached to his left arm.

"I play a second _Orange-kun_! Having two Orange-_kun_ on the field allows me to summon _Orange Queen_ from my deck to the field in attack mode!"

The holographic equipment hummed and raised an image of a giant orange with slinky arms and legs protruding from the appropriate places. Two cartoonish eyes and one grinning mouth formed on the fruity face; to top it all off, a typical gold crown fell out of nowhere and landed lopsidedly on the Orange Queen.

"My _Orange Queen's_ special effect allows her to gain 600 attack points for each _Orange-kun_ on the field," Jeremiah crowed. "That brings her total attack strength to 3000!" He leaned forward in anticipation. "Even if you destroy one of my _Orange-kun_, none of your monsters are strong enough to take on her!"

"But you cannot attack on this turn." Lelouch pointed flamboyantly, a perfect pose from which the crowd could catch the sparkles of his face.

"Doesn't matter," snapped his opponent. "I can beat you the turn after. Turn end."

"Really? Draw." Lelouch caught only the briefest glimpse of the silver letters before he slotted the card into his duel disk.

"It's the ritual summon card _Royal Knighting_! With this, I sacrifice my two monsters, _Restrained C.C._ and _Ace Pilot Kallen_ to bring _White Knight Suzaku_ into play!"

* * *

_It's just a game, right?_

What kind of game, mused Suzaku, makes people fall into comas?

"Suzaku, pay attention!"

The Japanese teenager snapped back into focus, fingers reflexively pushing the right buttons to execute the right elemental combo. His avatar launched into the proper animation, slashing the enemy monster and cutting down its life points. Text scrolled on the side of his HMD, alerting him to the acquisition of a new piece of armor. Suzaku sighed, wondering why he chose to play the game in first-person. It was really dizzying to be a twin blade like that.

His companion wiped off the other monster with a well-chosen spell, before approaching him.

"...Thinking about the incident again?"

A sheepish smile crept onto Suzaku's face; his HMD sensed the change in expression and appropriately changed his avatar to reflect the same. "Ah, Zero, you're really good at reading people."

BlackKnight0 scoffed, driving his staff into the dungeon stone. "You're so obvious, anyone can read you."

"I'm sorry for getting distracted."

"I do it too." The dark-haired avatar gazed at him squarely in the eye. "I think about my sister when we're in battle. So," the character brushed his hair aside, "it's not that bad, WhiteKnight."

"Wow, you're actually admitting to something?"

"Can it so we can actually get moving to the last part of the dungeon." BlackKnight0 turned towards the direction of advance, already at a brisk pace. "There's two rooms left to check for that rumor about corrupted data on the board."

"Zero."

The sound of footsteps stopped. "Yes?"

"If we do encounter one of those monsters—"

"If one of us falls," interrupted BlackKnight0, "the other one should run away."

Suzaku's hands jerked on the controller in surprise. "Why?! I would never leave you like that!"

"There's no guarantee regular resurrection will work like it should on a character. So no matter what happens, one of us has to survive to continue investigating." BlackKnight0 looked over his shoulder, purple eyes seemingly glowing. "You understand, right?"

Sullenly, Suzaku stayed silent.

BlackKnight0 once again faced the doorway to the next room. His right hand came up and flicked about in a dismissive motion.

"Besides, who said I would be the first to fall?"

* * *

**Notes**:

_Ouran High School Host Club_, _Yu-Gi-Oh!_, and _.hack_, in that order.

For the second one, I was split between _Pokemon_ and _Yu-Gi-Oh_. Use your imagination.

I haven't figured out if HMD means Head Mounted Display or Head Monitor Display. Hence, no mention of what the heck it is.

I wanted to make this a completely light-hearted collection...And I just couldn't run away some kind of sad thing. Thus the .hack one.

Code GEASS does not belong to me.


	6. Taking on a different role

_"I'm going to destroy Britannia!"_

Suzaku stared at Lelouch, dumbfounded. The whole afternoon, he sat there, wondering what would happen next, desperately ignoring the men building the wooden pen in which they later threw in body after body. He couldn't sleep, couldn't hide from the terrible odor of rotting bodies, couldn't go and find _them_ and seek some comfort from their presence.

The bodies were both Britannian and Japanese. In death, the race didn't matter, the hygiene for the living did.

He heard footsteps, looked up from the pebbles he had examined for the past hour.

Hesitant words of basic information spilled forth between them, and after no more than a few minutes, Lelouch pushed Nunnally away. Suzaku watched them leave, squashing the hope in his heart.

Then Lelouch came back, alone, and said those words.

Swallowing hard, Suzaku clenched his hands together so hard he thought, for the briefest moment, his fingers might actually break. His eyes didn't leave Lelouch's face.

"I..." The Britannian ex-prince stepped forward. "I'll destroy Britannia, and free Japan. I promise you."

Lelouch searched his eyes for an answer, but seemingly found none. The dark-haired ten year-old bit his lip, and spun around, shoulders hunching. "I just wanted to say that to you."

_No! Don't leave yet!_ Suzaku realized exactly what that promise meant. Lelouch was going to do the same thing he did.

He didn't know why it was so hard to summon the words. No, Suzaku knew exactly why. He was afraid of what Lelouch would think of him. He was afraid Lelouch would look at him with disgust, with hate. He was afraid to lose what he had left, even though a few moments ago he already knew he was losing them.

He didn't want this last encounter, this moment where already the stench and the feeling of dirt would stay with him, to be the one horrible memory to overshadow all his summer memories. Already all he remembered of his father was that hideous minute when the man stared accusingly at him until the life bled out of Genbu Kururugi's eyes. Everything else before and after was a blur. Those happy memories would fade if this moment—

The boy stood up suddenly, moving forward fast enough to grab the other's wrist. Lelouch glanced back in surprise.

"Don't do it."

Suzaku squeezed, shrinking in on himself and shutting his eyes tight. "Don't do it," he repeated. "Don't kill your father...it won't mean anything. Killing your father, your father who is the Emperor of Britannia, will only mean a lot of people will die! Look at them!" He was crying again, tears flowing out despite his tightly shut eyes. Words spilled out in the fastest stream of Japanese he had ever used when speaking to the Britannian boy, volume rising as he spoke.

"Suzaku—"

"Look at them," the crying boy whispered, clutching Lelouch like a lifeline. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't killed my father that day, then those people—" He choked. The secret was out. Lelouch heard it—

A heavy silence fell upon them. Shaking, palms clammy, Suzaku felt the warmth of Lelouch's arm; Lelouch wasn't responding, face turned away. The last words stoppered in Suzaku's throat.

_Please don't make the same mistake I did._

It shocked him when he felt those thin, weak, Britannian arms wrap around his shoulders and Lelouch gave him a shoulder to cry on.

Suzaku Kururugi was not remembered as the man who shot Zero. He was remembered as the knight of Emperor Lelouch Vi Britannia, and as the first President of the United States of Japan.

* * *

Villetta Nu had no idea why she was in a holding cell when she had apparently just captured Zero.

The exhilaration from catching that child long since died in the hours she passed sitting on the cold bench by the wall. Why was she being held like this? Were the officials who took over custody of Zero trying to take credit for themselves?

She seethed with impatience. She would not stand for it, not after what happened to Jeremiah. She would not fall to the same death like he did, dishonored, forgotten, without even a corpse to fill the dirt under his tombstone.

Did they discover the body of that civilian she killed to get to Zero? Was that why she was here, were they holding her responsible for that Fenette girl?

Her thoughts ran in circles, and so did she. Villetta paced the perimeter of the room constantly, heels clicking in an irregular pattern. She needed to calm down. This situation was probably because they were checking the identity and plausibility of her evidence, nothing to worry about.

Quite suddenly the door to the windowless room slid open with a loud hiss.

A split second later, Villetta recognized the figure in the doorway, and automatically saluted. Her anxiety vanished in that same instant, replaced by ingrained military training. "Governor-General!"

Cornelia Li Britannia regarded the soldier with a cool eye, before sweeping into the room, her knight Guilford in step with her stride. "At ease."

Villetta dropped her hand to her side, still standing ramrod straight. She didn't dare look at Cornelia, choosing instead to observe the nice, non-existent pattern on the wall opposite. The princess did not look at her either.

"You are the one who found Zero."

"Yes."

"You know his identity?"

"That he is Lelouch Lamperouge, a student at the Ashford school?"

Pressing silence. Villetta tensed, wondering if her information had been wrong after all.

Suddenly Cornelia spoke again. "You are to forget you ever saw his face."

"Why?" The word escaped her before she knew it. Villetta felt the rage over Kewell's and Jeremiah's deaths boil hotly. "He is Zero! Zero! He killed countless Britannian soldiers and made the government here look like a farce! He instigated the rebellious actions of the Elevens with his silly Black Knight Order—"

"You have no need to know the details. You will be promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel and receive a noble title of Baroness." Her gaze was sharp and demanding. "Provided you forget you ever saw the face of Zero, and any details of his identity."

"He won't be executed?" Villetta asked, incredulous. "His identity—"

"Is not longer your concern," the princess interrupted. "Will you take it or not?"

A short year later, when Villetta Nu returned to Britannia for a brief homestay, she greeted Prince Lelouch Vi Britannia with a firm handshake at a socialite party.

* * *

It was a council meeting like any other day, with the events of any other time.

Milly was, for once, doing something sane and working with Nina on budget allocation to clubs. Outside, Rivalz fine-tuned his motorcycle; Kallen was home sick and Shirley had a swim meet.

From his lazy position at the table that was the centerpiece of the student council room, Lelouch watched Suzaku, once again, tiptoe around Arthur in an attempt to avoid a bite, scratch, or a combination of the two.

Twenty minutes later found Lelouch and Suzaku huddled over work from their history class, Milly and Nina having walked out to submit their paperwork to the administration.

"So you were piloting all along."

The single sentence cut

"It's a frame of the technology division." Suzaku did not understand why he suddenly felt the need to be defensive.

"I thought you said you had been transferred to a safer position."

"Being a devicer is safer than being a foot soldier."

Lelouch snapped. "You could have died! You're still on the battlefield—"

"That's what being a soldier is!" Suzaku stood, chair scraping on the floor. "At least I would die defending—"

You would die as nothing but a dog of Britannia," sneered the other. "They would replace you in a heartbeat."

Suzaku winced at the venom in Lelouch's voice. He remembered that Lelouch had been tossed aside, and none of his words could dampen the bitterness in the prince's heart. Pen clutched tightly in his fingers, Suzaku dropped back into his seat, staring downwards. "I wouldn't die that easily," he reasoned quietly. "Not in the Lancelot."

The dark-haired teenager beside him remained sullenly quiet. Neither ventured to break the stifling silence, the history homework all but forgotten between them.

In the corner, on top of his elaborate living space, Arthur purred.

"So you'll fight against Zero, no matter what."

Taken aback, Suzaku's surprised eyes shot up to meet Lelouch's. "I...Why do you ask that?"

"I didn't ask," replied the ex-prince, "but you have your answer already, don't you. Neither I, nor Nunnally, can keep you from fighting."

Unconsciously, Suzaku squared his shoulders and looked Lelouch straight in the eyes. "Yes."

Lelouch studied him for a long moment, and closed his own eyes.

Later, Suzaku walked out with completed history homework.

Two months from that day, after Zero acquired Gawain, Suzaku Kururugi disappeared from the face of the planet, and the seventh generation Knightmare Frame Lancelot with him.

He reappeared at the Fukuoka base on the side of the Black Knight Order, standing as Zero's right-hand man.

_"I order you to follow my every command from this moment forward."_

* * *

**Notes**:

Picture Drama 23.95 was the fill-in on what happened that day Lelouch the child said he would destroy Britannia. The drama indicates Suzaku believed things could have been different if he had said what he needed to that day. And perhaps the future would have changed.

There's nothing much else to say, other than I hope the characters remained relatively in character.

Code GEASS does not belong to me.

* * *


	7. A slight change in plan

"Hm? McDonald's? Brother, aren't you getting a little chubby?"

He knew he should have never taken his fast food order home. What stemmed from a simple hamburger and fries was the current infatuation C.C. apparently had with the (in)famous golden arches. She continued to sneak out during the day and at odd hours in order to buy Big Macs and McFlurries, spending an unhealthy sum on all the McBurgers she could. The whole situation was annoying and dangerous—the military ate fast food too.

Probably. Not the higher ups, but definitely the grunts.

_McDonald's supports the Rebellion_, Lelouch thought sourly. With all the publicity surrounding Zero, the fast food corporation would probably not hesitate to print Zero's likeness on their containers if they even had a hint of knowing he was purchasing from them. Advertising had become very outrageous nowadays.

And C.C. seemed to have gained no weight at all, despite eating almost nothing save McDonald's menu items.

Come to think of it, Lelouch had never seen her go to the bathroom.

For now, because they were 'accomplices', he would accept her strange lifestyle and endure the perpetual smell of fries in his room.

That was until he returned home from school one day to find grease marks on his mask.

* * *

He checked his watch and decided to leave early. Buttoning up his collar and picking up his schoolbag, Suzaku shook off a strange feeling of almost-apprehension. He left his room quietly. 

On the streets, however, his anxiety had yet to fade. Distracted, the soldier didn't notice the man in front of him until it was too late. The two collided; Suzaku regained his balance fairly quickly, but the other fell onto the concrete, grunting loudly.

"I'm sorry!" Suzaku scrambled to help the man up, guilt building even higher when he realized the man was covered in bandages. "Is there pain anywhere?"

Indeed, the man was wincing, the eyes behind his visor traveling to where his headset had landed on the ground. Immediately Suzaku retrieved the object and handed it to the bandage man, who frowned as he looked at the Japanese teenager.

"Did the collision aggravate any of your injuries?"

Suddenly, a brilliant smile lit the man's face, and his visor slipped, giving Suzaku slight view of eerie glowing eyes. The Lancelot pilot froze.

"You're a friend of that annoying boy," crowed the bandage man, hands raised in a strange position for clapping.

"What?"

"That mind of yours...there's so many secrets." He leaned forward, visor dropping down low enough to give Suzaku a full-on view of the strange symbol etched in both his eyes. "I remember seeing you in his mind too...You're actually important to him, that manipulative bastard!"

"Sir," said Suzaku, regaining his calm—he flipped into soldier mode, distancing himself and shutting away his emotions for the time being. "Are you okay? Is there a hospital you came from?"

"You're disgusting," hissed the man. "Your self-righteous thoughts just now are all so full of shit—you killed your own father, what right do you have to claim justice over me?"

And time stopped.

That day, a tragic event occurred at the Ashford School.

* * *

_Why did you do that, Euphemia..._

Suzaku Kururugi spent the rest of the night on Avalon as the ship coursed its way towards a base on Britannian soil away from Japan.

He never witnessed the Battle of Tokyo, where hundreds of Britannian soldiers and Japanese men pitted their wills against each other. Where explosion after explosion rang into the long night. Where Jeremiah Gottwald finally perished, his half-mad mind incapable of seeking anything but destruction. Where a black knight sniped Nina Einstein and killed her in the seat of the bomb she sat upon. Where Britannian forces fell to the Elevens when at daybreak Zero raised the captured Cornelia before her knights. Suzaku never participated in the Battle of Tokyo, and never saw the blood wash away in the streets by morning rain.

He never piloted Lancelot again, stripped of his rank and position for failing one of the Britannian royals. The world moved on, Zero slowly inciting area after area of numbers and wreaking havoc within the empire. The world changed, the people gradually finding themselves drawn to the charisma and philosophy of equality and freedom of this man who dared to stand against greatness. The world erupted, civil war breaking out before war between the greater nations could. Suzaku never watched the news, never returned to Japan for many long years of misery.

He never saw the face of Zero. Sent to the frontlines with a mass-produced, cannon fodder unit, Suzaku survived three battles by sheer skill. Even without a will to live, his body responded whenever death was imminent. In spite of his continued life, Suzaku found no strength like he had before to fight Zero again.

Because of overwhelming enemy numbers, he did not survive the fourth battle. He never lived to see the United States of Japan and its struggles and successes; he never lived to see the assassination of the Britannian Emperor, rumored to have been carried out by Zero himself. Zero himself did not live to see the major changes that swept the world from the ideals and principles set by him for the new nation of Japan.

Suzaku never understood Euphemia's last actions against the Japanese.

* * *

**Notes**: 

Rather shorter than my usual, but life calls.

Code GEASS does not belong to me.


	8. Prices to pay

_The world cannot be changed by pretty words alone._

He had planned everything walking in, gliding past security with all intent to pull that trigger when he needed to. And he knew he needed to, no matter what.

Revealing his face to Clovis with the surety of his brother's death hanging over his head, Lelouch walked forward, face frozen in the smile that he knew would hide everything. Five feet away from Clovis, the ex-prince realized he could not pull the trigger.

Images of the blood from the day his mother died flooded his mind, filling him with the urge to vomit. He remembered the bullet wounds on his sister's legs; he recalled the dead and blank eyes of his mother, her body full of holes. The shooting sounded deafening in his ears.

The world cannot be changed by pretty words alone. He thought those words again and again, knowing the reality they were and the reality he must make. Clovis...Britannia stood in front of him. He could not afford not to kill the governor-general; if he couldn't kill Clovis, he would not even be capable of destroying Britannia.

A single shot erupted his train of thought. The memory of another gun, one held by a man scarred under his right eye. That gun had been fired with a truly malicious smile, with hateful eyes that gleamed in anticipation and in pride after the deed. That bullet killed Suzaku.

Was Suzaku stronger not to accept the order? Suzaku was strong enough to stay to his principles, but not strong enough to defy Britannia without consequences. Was this the same choice in front of him? To kill to protect his identity and life, or to not kill and remain untainted? Which choice was the stronger?

His fingers tightened around the weapon.

Fifteen minutes later, a soldier entered the command room to give a report, because his superior could not contact the bridge. He found Third Prince Clovis unconscious and unresponsive on the floor. Later, the Prince would recall no memory of any event other than his order to call off the massacre of Shinjuku.

* * *

Before the miracle, Kiseki no Toudou was known for his skills as a military officer, soldier, and as one of Japan's champions of not only kendou, but also kenjutsu and battoujutsu. Other than his swordsmanship, he had also been an incredible player in shogi. In Japanese newspapers, he had been referred to as a genius. 

At his dojo, he had many students, mostly sons of important government officials and high-ranking military officers. He remembered all their names, and knew that by year 2017 a.t.b. more than half of them were dead. Some of the remaining had fled to the Chinese Federation; two were still with him, and the rest, scattered throughout Japan, he lost contact with.

Suzaku Kururugi he remembered as the child that changed history. The child who, out of selfish wish to save more lives, murdered his father.

Toudou was a square, exacting man, who lived by the rules and rose by the rules. He had accepted the condition of death in exchange for the lives of his comrades. For throughout his life, Toudou had exchanged training and time for his mastery of the katana, hard work and diligence for his knowledge, and never asked for anything more than the price he could pay.

Now Zero had popped him from prison, and Toudou felt, for some reason, _free_.

He and his team moved as one, enhanced further by Zero's strategy. They fought fully against the white demon that appeared to take Toudou down, disarming him weapon by weapon, until the pilot of the Britannian machine had been maneuvered into the exact position where Toudou could take him.

Watching from his screens, Toudou moved towards where Zero directed, his instincts telling him that there was something off about the white Knightmare's movements. He could see parts of the fighting style that annoyed his inner soldier—of all things, the pilot fought to disarm instead of kill. Those motions clashed with the more offensive moves; while the style was still effective, the pilot blatantly showed all his weaknesses and also his lacking focus and discipline.

_Check,_ Toudou heard Zero whisper in the same heartbeat as when he drove his frame's sword into the cockpit of the Britannian frame.

A moment later, the soldier realized he could not draw the sword out the same way he could when dueling outside of the machine. Pulling the blade out of a human body exactly would ensure the least amount of pain for the enemy, at the very least. But these machines—

Forcefully he tore the cockpit in half, letting the metal fly apart and clatter to the ground in pieces. With those pieces, Suzaku Kururugi also fell.

But only from his torso up. His legs remained in the seat, covered in blood.

And once again, Toudou remembered.

This time, he exchanged the lives of his ex-pupil and many others for freedom.

* * *

She had given up her right to succession. 

He knew Euphemia would have only a small chance of ever wearing the crown, and if she wore it then either she would merely be a puppet Empress or not last long on the throne.

But she let it all go, her name and her rights. Cornelia would ensure her sister would be in charge of operations at the Specially Administrated Zone of Nippon, and Euphemia would be known to the world as a great peacemaker, a royal generous and benevolent. A princess of unseen kindness, the deliverer of the Japanese.

Euphemia hung onto the title and rank for the purpose of being useful to Cornelia, to the Britannia family. He knew she kept it because it was all she had, beyond her own helplessness.

If he took that hand of hers, he would have to pay his own price to achieve this dream of a free nation. To build the place Nunnally could be accepted, despite being weak. He would have to sacrifice his revenge.

Would they truly be safe in the zone? They could be found out. The zone, full of Japanese, had no obligations to protect them. They could be found, could be taken away from Japan and Euphemia and Suzaku again. Britannia still existed. He was still a Prince, still bound to that man. Euphemia had no use left to Britannia, not after this, which had catapulted her into the public eye. Nunnally...

But wasn't all the bloodshed for a moment of happiness? To make Nunnally happy, Euphemia had given up on what had defined her for all the years of her life. If the zone of Nippon could be like those summer days...

He'd protect it. He'd fight, and he would not let Britannia come close. He and...Suzaku.

There would be no more fighting between them.

Lelouch Lamperouge raised his hand and clasped Euphemia's firmly, his eyes locking with hers.

Zero and Euphemia Li Britannia made the official announcement of the Specially Administrated Zone of Nippon together, to the raving cheers of the greatest mass of Japanese gathered since the war seven years ago. The Order of Black Knights became an operating arm of the instated government within the year.

For five years, there was peace.

* * *

**Notes**: 

Too much focus on what is going inside people's heads, I think. These scribbles come closer to snapshots than any actual speculation on what would happen after a certain event has changed. It's actually an exercise in getting stuff out of my head.

Code GEASS does not belong to me.


	9. One life and another

Nunnally had been a terribly rebellious teenager. She had all sorts of fits and constantly picked fights with her brother, and at school she hung out with the worst crowd she could find. That was until one of them tried something, and the teenage princess pummeled the guy into the dirt. After that, Nunnally just stayed with the Goths, the cliche group themselves unable to refuse royalty.

"_Mother!_"

Marianne sighed. Lelouch came home from his university _yesterday_, for crying out loud. Couldn't Nunnally be a little more considerate...?

Her son came down the hall towards the alcove with a less-than-graceful stomp. Well, what could be considered his stomp. Lelouch was a theatric, prideful boy; she knew he looked as perfect as ever to any outsider, even now with the nearly invisible lines of stress and annoyance marking his face. He was quite the looker, a dark contrast to his sister and even to the other extremely handsome Prince Schneizel. And Lelouch himself was very aware of it.

Unfortunately, Lelouch did not take his relationships with other girls very seriously.

With a slight huff, the dark-haired prince sat down in the chair opposite her, and Marianne noted the luggage he wheeled behind him. She set her teacup down, and waited patiently.

"Nunnally refuses to leave my room," Lelouch stated, impassive. "I cannot unpack like this."

"She _is_ rather determined not to be like any of her siblings," replied the Empress.

"She's overdoing it," grumbled the prince. "Why can't she be nice like Euphemia or at least respectful like Cornelia?"

"You're rather distant nowadays. I'm sure Nunnally just wants to show a bit of love."

Lelouch gave her a sour look. "Mother, you know that is not the case here, and also know better than to sprout cheesy lines like those."

Chuckling, Marianne shrugged and smiled brilliantly. "It is the role of a mother."

He deflated, momentarily looking bereaved before straightening his posture. When his eyes looked at her like that, Marianne knew the conversation had turned towards serious matters.

"I heard Britannia is looking to establish a proper colony government in Area 20."

The Empress remained silent, a gloved hand lying placidly on the table. Lelouch glanced out the windows, observing the gardener at his duties.

"I will request the position of Governor-General of Area 20 from Father tomorrow morning."

"So you are dropping out of university?"

"Harvard is full of aristocratic idiots. I have already completed all the courses required for a diploma anyway."

Beyond the glass pane, a blue butterfly fluttered by, landing on the rosebushes by the window. Marianne stood, brushing out her own cornflower blue skirts.

"Lelouch."

He stood also, watchful.

"When you reach Area 20...There is someone you should find." Marianne paused, fixing her eyes to violet ones. "His name is Suzaku Kururugi, and he has a Geass."

* * *

Suzaku thought he looked like a corpse.

The Britannian had a glow of normal physical health, so Suzaku couldn't explain why he felt as though the prince was dead.

It was probably because of Lelouch Vi Britannia's eyes. The boy's eyes were a weird shade of purple that Japanese people didn't have—he remembered one of the female servants squealing about how exotic Lelouch's eye color was. To Suzaku, the color didn't matter. Initially it did, but he quickly realized his unease was not due to the strange purple.

Lelouch didn't _look_ at anything. Not people, not objects, nothing.

Toudou said it was because Lelouch's mother and sister had died. The Britannian prince mourns, his teacher told him. Toudou did not say whether or not the Britannian would get better.

The lifeless gaze scared Suzaku, even though the child would not admit it. For the first week, he gave the old shack Lelouch now lived in a wide berth.

After a particularly grumpy day, in which he had actually been reprimanded by Toudou for lacking focus, the fear sparked into anger. And quickly all the childish indignance returned. Suzaku was Japanese! There could be no way he was afraid of some Britannian because of _his eyes_.

Seeking to vent, Suzaku found himself stomping over to the shack he avoided so carefully.

Next to his patricide, and the fall of Japan, Suzaku's nightmares were plagued by the body hanging from the rafters.

* * *

Euphemia made too easy a target as Governor-General.

She herself was a gentle person naturally, unsuited to cutthroat politics. Even though Clovis had been the same, somewhat, he at the very least had inherent charisma and theatrics to carry through promises of safety and security to the Britannians. Euphemia lacked those skills of deceit, and did not do well with military organization and management like her sister did. On top of that, Cornelia's death at the battle of Narita left the young princess emotionally shattered and, more or less, incapable of taking proper charge.

Andreas Darlton sighed at the paperwork on his desk. He had Guilford on forced leave; the look on the Knight's face when he realized he had failed in his duty was more than enough to convince Darlton that now was not the best time to have Guilford working on anything. Euphemia herself was going to leave the next day with her sister's body, returning to the capital of Britannia for a proper funeral. How nice of Zero to return her corpse, he seethed.

So he stayed in Area 11 to hold fort.

The Britannian population in Area 11 were in a panic. Cornelia had renown for her prowess on the battlefield, after all, and Zero defeated her only after three encounters. Previously the murder of Clovis had already unsettled the public, as a testament of Zero's power. The Princess' death made Zero seem even more of a towering devil, indomitable and unstoppable. The replacement of bold Cornelia by Euphemia did not give the public any confidence.

Four of the Imperial family died here. Darlton ruminated for the moment, dropping his pen to the desk. If Euphemia stayed, she would be the fifth.

Cornelia would want her sister protected.

With this development, the Empire would send someone of even more import and influence than Cornelia, if simply to challenge Zero and grind Area 11 into dust.

The First Imperial Princess, currently pregnant, was an unlikely choice, even if she was the next step up on the ladder. From personal experience, Darlton knew she was also a coward at heart, only good at pretense like Clovis. Then again, they shared the same mother; it was only natural for them to share certain unpleasant qualities.

First Imperial Prince Odysseus grew increasingly lazy with age; sitting at the top of succession, he would certainly not deign to set foot in Area 11 for the safety of his life. Being so high in succession made Odysseus complacent. The man had not even found himself a passion, like Cornelia did, but rather sat in session only to delegate.

And delegate he will, mused Darlton. The general was sure who would come next. Of the three above Cornelia, Darlton liked _him_ least.

Four days after Cornelia's funeral in Britannia, Schneizel El Britannia stepped out of the Avalon and onto Japanese soil. He was the third Governor-General of Area 11.

He would be the last.

* * *

**Notes**:

I wondered if a conversation between an Empress mother and princely son should be more formal. In the end, I decided Marianne would be mother first, and Lelouch would be the son busy pretending he is an adult.

Part two was intended to seem more like storytelling, thus the lack of dialogue and the jumps.

Darlton's speculations at the end are all false and unrelated to the real story of Code GEASS.

Code GEASS does not belong to me.


	10. The Fool and The World

Suzaku walked in slow, plodding steps, his reluctance completely hindering his usual physical grace. Lancelot gazed towards the heavens, its shadows creeping across trees with the rising sun. He did not bother to land it in a place where no enemy would find it; he even left the key in the cockpit in his hurry to get out.

But once out, he had no idea if he wanted to go forward.

_If not for that day..._

Zero heard the great splash behind him; he did not look back. C.C. was a surprisingly quick student when he taught her the basics of Knightmare controls, and so he trusted her ability to pilot against even Jeremiah Gottwald. He trusted in her ability to survive.

An exchange of abilities, he thought dryly. Although both of them were more than sure who had the better end of the deal.

_If Lelouch had died in Shinjuku, would the future have been better?_

He wanted to know. He didn't want to know. He feared the answer.

Suzaku had watched Zero go in. He did not move from the cover of flora, green eyes glowing amidst the plants. The saunter, the manner in which the leader of the Black Knights carried himself—why had he denied it for so long?

Sadness had overshadowed happiness for so long, he had almost forgotten how much happiness hurt. He became desperate to find happpiness again after seven years, so much he forgot how much more bitter the sting of reality was after joy. Or perhaps he did remember, which was why he denied who Zero was. Even now, he wanted to be sure.

_If I had shown myself to you that day, would you have chosen me?_

Zero tried not to let other thoughts creep into his mind, burying any he had of Euphemia into a dark corner, and sorting away those of Suzaku. He would figure Suzaku out later. Even though he had told Suzaku he would challenge the Lancelot pilot on the battlefield, in the end...

Damn C.C. for being right about his weaknesses, and damn Suzaku for not choosing them. Nunnally would never have been taken if Suzaku were the one protecting her.

_If I had never met Euphemia..._

In those last moments, the only thing Suzaku could do for her was lie. He broke his principles for _her_—he would have lied as much as he could if she was happy, before she died. Euphie's eyes had known he was lying, but she did not condemn him, she never condemned him for his efforts. Her eyes only accepted him, no matter what he did.

Suzaku thought he wanted to hate her for accepting someone so terrible. He knew he wanted to hate Lelouch for just accepting what he did to his father—but Lelouch had forgiven him too. Both Lelouch and Euphemia knew who he truly was, only that the princess did not meet him until her dying day.

The him willing to do wrong in order to achieve happiness.

He clicked the safety off his gun, made sure it was loaded, and approached the cave entrance.

_If I had died along the way,_ Zero reflected, _I would definitely not be here._ Still, he could not help but feel annoyed at Fate.

"You helped me survive for so long," he whispered into his helmet, unheard, "and now, why, at this moment?"

Suzaku listened to the echoing footsteps of Zero's boots, and wished he had died earlier.

_Without Geass, would it have come to this?_

In that heart-stopping second, with their guns pointed at each other, the should haves and has beens and what ifs ran through their minds, enveloped in anger and fueled by hate at the obstacles they had become to each other.

It never occurred to either of them to think of consequence.

* * *

**Notes**:

Inconclusive ending? Because this is a 'real' short, in the sense that it is not a 'what if'. Suzaku and Lelouch are, in my opinion, definitely people who would wonder about the what-ifs, because they are two people constantly looking over their shoulders as they move forward.

Code GEASS does not belong to me.


End file.
